


Ch'io mi scordi di te?

by rex101111



Category: Guilty Gear
Genre: Angst, Aria has too many emotions in her head and it sucks, Coming back from the dead is not as fun as it probably sounds, Contains Headcannons about a character we know little to nothing about so strap in, Existential Crisis, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Set very shortly after the ending of Rev2, Sol is very bad at emotions but he tries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-23 19:10:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20247871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rex101111/pseuds/rex101111
Summary: Aria Hale wakes to the smell of disinfectant and the sound of flickering florescent lights from outside the room. Her head is pounding, her world is spinning, and she is, miracle of miracles, alive.-Aria tries to make sense of being alive again after over a century of being very, very dead. She doesn't do well.





	Ch'io mi scordi di te?

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by one scene idea from a mutual on tumblr along with my personal and probably doomed to fail longings for Aria/Justice to be a playable character in the upcoming GG game. Contains like 85% headcannon with the other 15 being a mix of actual canon and whatever sense I could make of the Guilty Gear time line. May or may not turn into a series of one shots exploring Aria gaining control of her life back before culminating in her building a badass robo suit to fight in. Depending on if I don't get side tracked with other ideas :D

A monster stands in the dark of her mind, it is a giant of metal and fire and blood, and she feels red hot fear dig a trench through her gut at the sight of it. Her mind expands, feels far away, and in walks a person. Or half of one, half of her.

The half-person turns to her with a broken smile, waves to her, before walking to the monster, placing a hand on the monster's chest. Slowly, the monster shrinks from a giant to about the size of the half-person, and then it is not a monster.

Her two halves now stand there, in the dark, facing each other without a word. The half that was-_is-will be-_a monster raises its own hand to mirror the first half. As soon as the fingers touch the other's chest, a sharp, bright light splits her mind into a thousand shards, a million memories.

Running from the orphanage with nothing but her lightly stuffed and battered back pack.

Sitting at a desk working over her thesis.

Meeting Fredrick Bulsara at a café on campus, whistling the Queen song he was humming under his breath as he waited for his order.

Asuka R. Kreutz cursing her out in German as she laughs at some joke she made.

The day the Gear Project was announced, standing shoulder to shoulder with two people she would give her life for.

Coughing blood into her palm while she worked on Backyard research.

Schematics for a suit, a suit to explore the Backyard, an idea, a stupid idea, _her_ idea. _Their_ idea.

Walking away from Fredrick, refusing to listen to his pleas to _stop, please, you don't know what you're doing! _She does know, of course she does, how could she not?

Arguing with Asuka over data, what it means, what they could do with it, she calls him an idiot.

Fredrick crying at her bedside while she was eaten from the inside out.

Asuka on the other side of a glass tube, tears going down his determined face.

Death. Fire. _Fear. Destroy. **Destroy. DESTROY. DESTROY!**_

** _ALL OF THEM. EVERY SINGLE ONE. DESTROY!_ **

**_FIRE. _**_A SCOWL. Fredrick. _Doesn't know, doesn't recognize her. She can only be glad that he doesn't. Death is soft and quiet and she holds it with both hands.

A sword, a death, fire, another death. And another, and another, and another. Over and over, from a thousand different eyes. Forever.

I-no chasing after her (but not her), Raven healing her leg, Fredrick (bigger and older and _sadder_ and hurt and scared and different but _still_) watching her as she explains all she can, Asuka (thinner and sorry and wiser and quiet but _still_) sending her off with a promise and a hope.

A giant, a monster, a will, light.

Nothing.

Aria Hale wakes to the smell of disinfectant and the sound of flickering florescent lights from outside the room. Her head is pounding, her world is spinning, and she is, miracle of miracles, alive.

She swallows what little spit she has in her dry throat, coughs, and then rasps the first sound she makes with her own voice in little over a century, "what the _fuck?"_

The nurse, who she did not see in the room, is very startled, drops her clipboard, and runs out the door screaming for a doctor.

Aria blinks at the swinging door, then looks back up at the off white ceiling, "what the _fuck", _she repeats, just as confused, but this time with a weary smile.

-_-_-_-_-

By the time the doctor showed up, the world stopped spinning long enough to gather herself more solidly. She is Aria Hale, over a century ago she died, and now she's alive again.

Between that death and right now a million memories bounce around in her head and give her a migraine, but somehow she manages to make sense of them all, or at least most. The doctor fills her in once he checks her eyes and gives her a plastic cup filled with water.

She's been in the hospital for about six days now, she's in Illyria, and her medical bill is being paid by king Kiske. She will stay in the hospital for a few more days, just to be safe, and then she's free to go where she pleases.

She smiles tiredly at the doctor, some young man barely out of his scrubs whose name she doesn't catch, and thanks him. She doesn't tell him she doesn't really have anywhere to go as he leaves the room. Doesn't tell him the name _Kiske _barely means anything to her, or at least doesn't mean what it means to him.

To her it means lightning and an army, some figure cutting down her soldiers as he streaks across battlefields.

_And your son-in-law._ A melodic voice, like that of a child, adds from somewhere deep in her heart and she smiles incredulously. She rubs her eyes as she remembers Dizzy, and Ky, and all the things Jack-O knew and now _she_ needs to know if she intends to make full use of this life she's been given.

Life. Alive. _She's alive. _The concept is numb in her mind, unreal. Her heart thumps lazily in her ribcage, her lungs expand and contract as she takes a breath and sighs. She feels the uncomfortable itch of the hospital gown covering her form, her long hair (she’ll need to cut it, she never liked her hair that long) splayed over the pillow and tickling the back of her neck.

It doesn't make sense, strictly speaking, that she is here, on this bed, alive and fine and waiting for shitty hospital food. It was almost yesterday, to her, that she was wasting away on another hospital bed, miles from where she is right now, hooked up to tubes and wires and patiently waiting for the dull, burning pain to go away so she could sleep.

She remembers _accepting_ death, readying herself for it, bracing herself by holding on to Fredrick's hand as the world grew cold.

But, now, here she is, alive and fine and with a sore throat and a splitting headache.

It's almost overwhelming, but only barely not, just within her reach to understand it, which only makes it more unreal. That it was that easy in the end. One moment she was dead, the next she was alive, and in between those moments a century somehow wedged itself in and she needs to play catch up, simple, straightforward, and too damn much.

It's whiplash and jetlag both at once, her head is pounding and her eyes aren't used to the light and she just wants someone in this hospital to do their job and give her an aspirin or something. Or maybe just pump her full of morphine so she could stop having this existential crisis at 4 in the afternoon.

Before she could spiral down further a knock on the door jars her to attention, "Ms. Hale? Is it alright to come in?" The voice of her doctor floats from the other side of the door, the tone is kind but it is sudden and rubs against her tired and recently resurrected ears like sandpaper and she has to bite her lip to control her reaction to it, "you have visitors."

She breaths in through her nose and out through her mouth and manages to work her face into a facsimile of a welcoming smile as she turns to the voice, "yes, please come in." Her heart belatedly picks up its rhythm at the thought of who might be on the other side as the door opens, she clenches her fists to stop it, it's been a century, if he cared enough to see her she would have seen him by now.

She was right to curb her enthusiasm, as the person who follows the doctor into her room isn't who she hoped. "Ms. Hale." Ky Kiske bows his head politely at her as the doctor steps aside from him before leaving him with Aria, a pleasant tilt to his lips as he looked at her, "it's good to see you awake."

Aria can't help the tired laugh that jumps out, she almost makes a comment about wakefulness being overrated, but bites her tongue to stop it and instead shakes her head fondly at the young man. "Thank you for the concern, Sir Kiske, but I'm surprised at how quickly you showed up, I just woke up about an hour ago!"

"We told the hospital to call us as soon as you did." A second voice calls out gently from behind the king, and a lump lodged itself firmly in Aria's throat as Dizzy brushes past her husband to sit by her bedside, face welcoming and warm as she took her hand. "I wanted to meet you as soon as I could…mother."

There. Right there. That word right there brought the full and utter _absurdity_ of her situation into perspective for Aria; mother. She's a _mother_, this woman in front of her is her _child_, hers and Fredrick's, a child with her eyes and the curve of her nose and Fredrick's chin and ears, a child with _wings_ and a _tail_. It is ridiculous and absurd and her heart is struggling to take it all in.

But Dizzy is not a child at all, there was a childhood she missed, a life Aria abandoned and did not care for and yet her she was, a woman fully grown, with a husband and child of her own and a household she needs to worry about. All of that over her head and yet here Dizzy was, taking time out of her day to hold the hand of a woman who is a century too late to be her mother and that she barely knows and that she should by all accounts either hate or resent but instead she holds her hand tenderly yet firmly with a smile.

A century ago she died with nothing to her name but an ill-fated science project that would kill millions as a legacy, today she lays on a hospital bed while her daughter and son-in-law smile at her, glad to be talking to her and glad she is alive and _here._

She didn't earn this, none of this. People, people who she loved and loved her but still _other people_, decided that she deserved all of this. Later, when she acclimates and finds her footing this idea will leave a bad taste in her mouth. Right now? Her daughter is holding her hand and smiling and telling her she wants to know her, and her heart damn near bursts.

She wants to say that, to tell Dizzy how _happy_ she is at this moment that everything starts to click together for her, to promise her she will try to make up for lost time even though she has _never_ known herself to be nearly so maternal, because she is _alive_ despite the odds and that thought makes her so ecstatic that she doesn't know what to do with herself.

Instead, she takes Dizzy's hand in both of her own and controls her voice just enough to smile wetly at her daughter, "well," she started once she could gather some composure, "let's talk!" Her face stretched into a smile so wide it hurt but she did not care, "what do you want to know about me?"

The smile Dizzy sends her way is blinding. "Everything."

-_-_-_-_-

They talk for hours, in-between catching up on her life and Aria's, Dizzy fills her in on the basics of, well, everything she should know about Illyria. Sorry, _The United Kingdoms of_ Illyria. The languages, the holidays, what café is worth a damn near her home.

This is also around the time she finds out she'll be staying with Dizzy and her husband until she can settle herself elsewhere, however long that would take her. The concept surprises her and fills her with an odd sort of anxiety. She is used to living on her own, in her cozy little apartment near the Gear Project complex.

A tiny little three room affair with a half assed kitchen, creaky bed, and barely working shower, but still hers. Hers and long, _long_ gone, probably buried under tons of rubble and a century's worth of dust and God knows what else.

She still recognizes the necessity of the gesture, she has no money, no home, and no fucking clue how to get a job or if any of her three degrees are still any good after all these years. She swallows the indignation at being dependent on someone else and thanks Dizzy as warmly as she can manage.

The mundane details of her daughters' life serve as an anchor, give her a base to stand on where she could find something familiar in a world so changed by time and war and death it might as well be an alien plant. Some things don't change, no matter how much time passes, and that idea is the biggest comfort she has managed so far.

Something distracts her though. Ky, while he participated in the conversation, adding his own little asides whenever Dizzy said something that he felt needing expanding or simply whenever he wanted to make her blush or smile, he seemed occupied by something. Every so often, and more frequently as time wore on, he would steal a glance at the door, his eyes narrowing for a moment before he looked back at them.

Aria wanted to ask him what he was looking at, but decided he would tell her in his own time and she would just enjoy her daughters' company until he does. She didn't have to wait long though, in the middle of Aria telling Dizzy about her undergraduate work for her B. S. (which was indeed, as she told her daughter, BS), Ky heaved a sigh of frustration and shoved the door to her room open with no small amount of force and stomped out.

Before Aria could ask if it was something she said, Ky came back, face annoyed, and holding a large, muscular man by the scruff of his shirt as he dragged him into the room. It takes her a moment to parse who it is, and when she does the grip on Dizzy's hand goes limp.

Fredrick Bulsara, taller then she remembers and more solidly built then she thought he could ever possibly be, looks at her with conflicted eyes and his mouth in a severe line. Her mind went blank, and then it was stuffed to bursting with things she wanted to say, either way she found her mouth refused to work. All she could manage is a wide eyed look as she clenched her thin blanket between her fingers.

Her daughter seemed more on the ball though, thankfully, and quickly rose from her chair, "we'll finish our talk tomorrow, okay mom?" Dizzy calling her _mom_ was just enough of a shock to get her to nod a bit dumbly before Dizzy walked to her husband, leveling a rather interesting look at her father on the way, "you two have a lot of catching up to do as well, right?"

Fredrick, who probably weighs twice as much as Dizzy and is pure rippling muscle (that Aria was _not_ staring at what are you talking about), nods quickly in assentation, bordering on the frantic.

The King of Illyria and his wife exited the room, and left Aria Hale and Fredrick Bulsara to stare awkwardly at each other like teenagers on a first date. Aria remembers that their _actual_ first date wasn't nearly this awkward, the memory is fuzzy but she distinctly remembers it including a movie and burgers for dinner, she thinks the movie was-

"Star Wars."

"Huh?"

"Star Wars, we saw episode 4 on our first date, you thought Harrison Ford looked like a shaved jackal."

So, she said that out loud, but, not being one to let a slip trip her up, she straightened her back and glared at him, "yeah? Well _you_ thought Carrie Fisher had sweet rolls taped to her head."

"We all make mistakes."

They stare at each other after that, that flippant comment striking a spot they both weren't guarding. After a moment, the tension leaves both of their shoulders, and Aria feels a sad smile curve her lips, "good afternoon, Fredrick."

After a moment he shuffles his feet to sit at the chair Dizzy occupied before, every muscle in his body relaxing into an exhausted heap as he slumps on the back rest. He levels a tired smile at her to meet her own, the edges of his mouth don't reach his eyes but neither do hers, and mutters, "afternoon."

As if a century hadn't passed since the last time they were like this, as if they both hadn't died in one way or another, they sat there in front of each other for a moment and exchanged greetings. Like they were having lunch to discuss work, or the weather.

She has a maelstrom of questions for him, how did he survive this long without crumbling under the pressure, did he ever think anything like this could ever happen? Did he think Asuka's robe and hood outfit looked as ridiculous as she did?

Instead of all of those question, she found herself sputtering out a laugh, laughing a bit louder as she caught the confused look in his eyes, "Sol Badguy?" She managed to get out between a chuckle or two, "seriously? You couldn't think of a better alias then _Sol Fucking Badguy?"_

Fredrick blinked owlishly at her for a long moment before crossing his arms and huffing, "sounded cool at the time…"

"A reference to a Queen song nobody gave a shit about for close to two hundred years sounded _cool_ to you?"

He barked out a laugh, "well _you _got the reference didn't you?" She burst out laughing again, unable to answer, "well, you and Asuka…"

And she was gone, laughing so loudly she was practically screaming. That was so stupid, so absurd, so ridicules! So _Fredrick. _That was so Fredrick Bulsara it nearly hurt to think about, this is the guy who spent four straight nights cramming for his theoretical physics finals in senior year, after blowing it off for months, by holing himself in his dorm with literally every single book the professor even referenced during the year.

He got a B-, he was so angry he nearly choked her out when she said it could have been worse.

"You are the most preposterous man I have _ever_ met; you know that?" She managed finally, wiping a tear from her eyes as she leaned back on her pillow, "I swear the only thing that changed is your biceps," she smirks, "is that what you were doing while I was taking my week long nap, pumping iron like some dumb jock?"

If he noticed the bite she paired with the question, he didn't show it, simply shrugging, "gotta keep fit these days, can't exactly go into a lab anymore." She clicked her tongue and shook her head, and he went on. "Besides, you can thank Asuka for most of these things, Gear DNA has some perks."

She pointed a leer at him from under her bangs, "I'll say, never knew Asuka was into that kinda thing, learn something new…"

"Funny…" He muttered quietly, but he placed his hands behind his head, and made a show of flexing his arms, dragging another chuckle out of her, "forgot your sense of humor was this brutal, Aria," he grumbled, though with a hint of affection, "…I missed it."

Her heart leaps into her throat. She doesn't know why that, that simple little phrase is what finally pushes her to her limit. The idea that he _missed her_, even after all this time, after all the death he's seen and all the lives he's saved, the idea that he missed something as small as her _sense of humor_, it was overwhelming in a way she couldn’t describe.

Like a Century and a half didn't pass, like they haven't been torn apart until barely anything of who they were remained, like she was never sick and there were never any Gears and they were just shooting the shit on campus between lectures, like it was only yesterday and the world was still okay.

But it wasn't. None of this was okay, not a single scrap of it.

Everything she had ever known, every person she had ever so much as crossed on the street, gone, all of it gone. It was a miracle she could still speak the same language as the people around her, nobody knew who she was or what she had accomplished.

She was one of the head engineers of the Gear Project, she worked her _ass off_ for close to 15 years in college with a shitty job and no family to make something of herself and gain that position. She stood shoulder to shoulder with two of the greatest minds of her generation and made their absurd ideas _work_.

And no one even remembered her name. In the grand history of the world she was just another nameless drone that worked with That Man to destroy the world, less than a foot note, less than a reference.

Less than _nothing._

But, she had a family now. She came into this world with nothing but a name and now she had a home waiting for her, somewhere. A home with a daughter who wanted to know her, a grandson who was excited to meet her, a son-in-law that looked at her child with love and care.

And she still had Fredrick and Asuka. Only just barely, but still they hung on, somehow, and they were all alive, somehow, and every pragmatic inch of her wanted that to be enough, and it just might be, eventually.

But right now, she feels so very, crushingly alone.

She got a life she did not earn, that she did not deserve, that she can barely use, that she almost doesn't _want_.

But she wants to be happy, almost out of spite. She wants to want this life that she got back, she wants that so desperately she can hardly breath.

"Aria?"

She looks up at Fredrick, worry etched on his face, his hands hovering near her like he doesn't know what to do with them, like he ever knew at all without her telling him, he was always a little awkward around her, just considerate enough to hesitate so he could get instruction. That was part of the reason she fell in love, all those years ago.

"Fredrick…"

Except that was over a century ago, for him, when to her he's still that hard headed jack ass who banged his head on a project until it played by his rules. But what is she to him? A memory he half remembers? A shadow he could never let go of? Is she still Aria? Or is she Jack-O? Valentine?

Justice?

He puts a hand on her cheek, brushing away tears she only now notices, "c'mon…" he mutters helplessly, "you know I'm fucking useless when you start crying."

She launches herself at him with little warning, wrapping her arms around his neck with a wrenching sob, relief and happiness and anger and helplessness and endless other emotions she can barely recognize churning in her gut and bursting out of her throat without restraint.

He crushes her to his chest as she wails, and she hangs on for dear life, her heart is bursting open and her head is screaming with the million memories of the monster and the half person and she prays she can find herself somewhere in between.

"Thank you…"

She almost doesn't hear the mutter from behind her sobbing, she presses her ear to his throat, partly to hear him and partly to anchor herself to his heartbeat.

"Thank you for coming back…"

If she was foolish, she would believe he was chocked up himself as he held her a little tighter. She hugs him tighter still and hopes he understands.

The sun dipped into the horizon by inches from the window behind her, the light slowly but surely fading away. The world sunk into the dark, where only she and Fredrick remained, clutching tightly at each other with all their might.

In a few hours, Aria Hale would officially be alive again for a whole full week.

The thought pulls a smile out of her that stretches from ear to ear, the rumble of Fredrick's chest as he laughs in incredulous joy when she tells him she wants to celebrate with hamburgers, her face still stuck to his sternum, makes the smile stretch even wider.

**Author's Note:**

> Fan Fact! The title of this story is from a musical piece written by Mozart...specifically an ARIA. Eh? Eh? See what I did there? EHH? *ahem* and it translates to: "You ask that I forget you?" (or something along those lines, looking at titles of Aria's after i finished writing, found it, went BINGO, and here we are


End file.
